


Missing Biscuits

by Bodie24 (Tiglet24), merentha13



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiglet24/pseuds/Bodie24, https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: Bodie tries to solve a little Christmas mystery...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Missing Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 'Discovered in the Yuletide Spirit' - December 9th 2019

“They’re bloody gone again!” Bodie muttered as he looked anxiously around the rest room.

“What’s that?” Doyle turned from the vending machine, looking at his coffee with a scowl. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, then?”

“Nothing,” Bodie turned away from his partner, hoping the rising heat in his face didn’t show. He studied the floor, avoiding Doyle’s scrutiny.

“There,” he whispered silently to himself, studying a line of crumbs leading to the door.

“Well, if it’s nothing, we need to move. Cowley has a job for us.”

“We’re supposed to be off duty – it’s Christmas Eve,” he protested, still eyeing the track of evidence.

“Tell that to Cowley, mate. But wait until I’m well away.”

“Thanks, partner,” Bodie frowned, but opened the door stepping aside for Doyle to pass through first. He winced as he heard Doyle’s boots crush the trail of clues.

Doyle stopped to see what he’d stepped on. “Cleaning crew left a bit of a mess.”

“Those size nines aren’t helping any.”

“You know what they say about men with big feet?” Doyle waggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, they wear big socks,” Bodie smirked. “Get over yourself, Doyle. I’ve personally seen the object in question and found the opposite to be true.”

“That hurts, that does.”

“Bodie! Doyle! My office, now.” Cowley’s voice filled the corridor.

“Duty calls.” Bodie pushed Doyle ahead of him his eyes following the scattered path that would hopefully lead to the scene of the crime.

❄❄❄❄❄

Doyle was ushered into Cowley's office by his partner and he took his customary place in front of Cowley's desk, Bodie coming up alongside him moments after.

Cowley looked up from his paperwork. "Ah, Four-Five, Three-Seven. Good of you both to join me," he said drily.

"Our pleasure, sir," replied Bodie, brightly.

Doyle gave his partner a sideways glance, half expecting him to touch his forelock, he'd sounded so sincere. 'How did he do that?'

Cowley sighed briefly, before continuing. "As things appear to have quietened down over the festive period, I would like you both to revisit some of your reports."

He reached over to a substantial pile of folders on the corner of his desk and opening the top one, pulled out a sheet of A4. "Three-Seven, a report that consists of 'At 1700 hours, we approached the house and at 1709 we exited through the back with Callaghan in custody and three dead in the upstairs front bedroom’, is not a perspicuous account of events. Although I do appreciate the effort to provide relevant detail regarding the layout of the house."

"Sir."

Doyle glanced at his partner, expecting a quip, but nothing was forthcoming. Bodie appeared distracted, miles away. Cowley seemed to have noticed it too and frowning slightly, focused his attention back onto the files.

"And Four-Five, reports are not the place for blasphemy."

Puzzled, Doyle reached for the piece of paper Cowley had plucked from another file.

Scanning the report, which was a good three months old, he saw that there were various sentences highlighted in red pen. 'Bet nobody ever reads these anyhow, dunno why we bother.', 'Bloody hurry up can't you? I'm meeting Melissa at 7', and 'Christ, this cast's damned itchy.'

Bloody Bodie. He remembered that day well. He'd been unable to type his report, due to the afore-mentioned cast on his arm and Bodie had been pressed into service. After Bodie had interrupted him for the tenth time, complaining about the amount of detail he was expected to type, he'd lost his temper and instructed his partner to stop whining and just type everything he said. It seems that Bodie had taken him at his word. And he'd been in such a rush to meet Melissa he hadn't read it through before signing it at the bottom.

As Cowley looked at him over the rim of his glasses, a small twitch reached his mouth. "As is no doubt apparent to you now, somebody does read these."

Feeling like a school kid getting a D for his English homework, he handed the report back across the desk. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Cowley transferred his gaze to Bodie, who hadn't engaged in the conversation at all. He frowned at Bodie's continued pre-occupation before gathering the pile of files and pushing them across the desk. "I expect these to be completed before the New Year."

Bodie made no move towards the files, and Doyle gave him a sharp dig in the ribs with his elbow, which earned him some well-deserved satisfaction as well as his partner's attention. He grabbed the files and thrust them into Bodie's arms, before pushing him out into the corridor.

As he turned to close the door behind him, Cowley smiled. "Doyle, if circumstances require it again, I suggest you make use of the typing pool in future."

"Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas."

As Doyle followed his partner down towards their cubby hole of an office, he smiled to himself at his partner’s woolgathering. Bodie certainly hadn't been focused on the conversation in the old man's office even allowing for the lack of fondness his partner had for paperwork. His own plan was working and he thought it just might be suitable punishment for Bodie dropping him in it so handsomely with Cowley.

“Cuppa?” Doyle asked as they headed towards their office.

Bodie nodded, and then stopped by Betty’s desk. “Go on ahead, mate. I’ll catch up. And don’t forget – two sugars!”

Doyle saluted him with two fingers and went to the rest room.

❄❄❄❄❄

“Betty, luv,” Bodie put on his best smile.

“The answer is still no, Bodie. I don’t know what happened to the parcel.”

He tried not to mind that she hadn’t even looked up from her typing.

“Aw, C’mon Betty.” He put on his best pout. Funny how it never seemed to work on her.

She sighed and turned to face him. “What is it, Three-Seven?”

“Well, Doyle’s mum was supposed to send a parcel for him. I was wondering if-”

“The postman left it on my desk and it disappeared. Maybe your partner picked it up.” She started typing again.

“Any idea what might have been in it?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Betty it’s important, Ray-”

“Betty, is that report for the Minister ready?” Cowley shouted from his office.

She glared at Bodie and replied, “In a minute, sir.”

Cowley came out of the office. “What’s the delay? Oh, Bodie. If you’ve finished that stack of reports already, I do have more.”

“No, sir. I mean, I haven’t, there’s no need for more. Getting on it right now, sir.”

❄❄❄❄❄

Bodie hurried to the rest room where he found Doyle making tea, Murphy slouched on the old sagging settee reading The Guardian and Charlie bent over a crossword at the table.

“Hello, Murph, Charlie.” Bodie reached for the tea that Doyle handed him. “Not much on today, then?”

Murphy lowered the newspaper as he straightened up on the sofa. Bodie bit back an exclamation as colourful bits of sugar cascaded down the front of Murphy’s jumper.

“We’re waiting on some info from Charlie’s snitch. If we’re lucky, there’ll be a bit of action later today, eh, mate?” He tossed a bunched up piece of the newspaper at Charlie.

Charlie turned around, pushing the last bit of what looked, to Bodie, very much like a biscuit into his mouth.

Bodie stared at him. “Where did that come from?” He stood up and walked to the table, where he found an empty plate.

Charlie took a sip of his tea and then wiped his hand across his lips. “Not sure who left ‘em, but they were good.” Bodie watched him dislodge several biscuit crumbs from his moustache. “I heard that there were more somewhere.”

Doyle walked up and put an arm around Bodie’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, sunshine? Didn’t get your share of the biccies today?”

“Sod off, Doyle.” Bodie turned to the door. “Let’s go. We’ve got reports to write.”

❄❄❄❄❄

Bodie sat back with his feet up on the desk, clutching his mug as he pondered the evidence he'd gathered to date. There had definitely been a parcel delivered for Ray, he'd seen it on Betty's desk and Ray had told him well over a week ago that his mum was going to post him some Christmas biscuits because he wouldn't make it there for Christmas Day. Before they'd been summoned to Cowley's office there definitely hadn't been any biscuits in the restroom, he'd looked all over, and yet Charlie had been munching on biscuits when they'd come in. It wasn't an unreasonable conclusion to make that both those circumstances could be connected. Maybe he could…

"Oy, I'm not doing all of these by m'self you know. Most of 'em are yours anyhow."

"Sssh, I'm thinking."

Doyle spluttered. "That'll be a bloody first, mate. And you know what they say."

"What's that?" asked Bodie, sliding his feet from the desk and sitting upright.

"If at first you don’t succeed, stop trying. You’re probably too thick."

"I'm wounded, Raymond."

"Well, how you thought you'd get away with this report, you must have a screw loose." Doyle thrust the red inked piece of paper across the desk.

Bodie picked up the paper and grinned, "That's not my fault, sunshine. You told me what to type."

Doyle flung a pen across the desk, narrowly missing Bodie's head. "I didn’t say it was all your fault, I'm just blaming you."

"Don't worry, I'll fix it for you," Bodie said with a condescending tone and started to wind the report into the typewriter and line it up before repeatedly hammering the X key.

Doyle sighed, "I'll let you hand that in to the old man."

Bodie waved a dismissive hand before moving the paper on some more and continued to methodically to type X's.

Doyle raised his voice over the noise of the typewriter. "What were you thinking about, in Cowley’s office, anyhow?"

Bodie pulled the paper from the typewriter with a flourish and the roller rumbled in protest. "Oh, I didn’t tell you? Must be none of your business, then," he said with a grin. "There you go, sunshine. All done. Need my help with anything else?" he asked innocently.

"The sooner I shoot you, the sooner I’ll get out of jail for it. Don’t assume that’s not a major incentive, Bodie."

Bodie pushed his chair back and stood up. "I'll make you a nice cup of tea, mate. You're obviously stressed about something." And grabbing both their mugs he wandered out of the room, intent on checking the rest room again for the presence of the missing biscuits.

❄❄❄❄❄

A few minutes after Bodie left the office, the door swung open and Murphy stuck his head in the door. “I think we’ve really got him at sixes and sevens, Ray. He just went back into the rest room and he’s talking to himself and checking cupboards and even the sofa cushions.”

Doyle laughed. “Can’t separate the man from his biccies. Punishable by death, that is.”

“Well, Susan is ready for the next part. She’s stopped at a health food store to pick up some healthy baked goods. He may even be desperate enough to try some.”

“Now that I’d like to see. Bit of fibre and protein might be good for him.” Doyle stood and straightened the papers Bodie had left strewn all over the desk. “If he thinks he’s done with his reports, he can think again.”

“He’s probably hoping for a call-out.”

“Aren’t we all,” Doyle sighed. “Let’s see how Susan is doing."

Heading towards the restroom they heard a loud wail.

“Susan, what is this stuff?”

“They’re oat cakes, Bodie. A healthly snack. Do stop carrying on. If you don’t like them, don’t eat them.”

“Who in their right mind would want a biscuit that might be good for them?” Bodie asked. “Defeats the whole purpose.”

“What’s all the bother, Bodie?” Doyle walked into the room.

Bodie rolled his eyes. “Give ‘em to, Doyle, Susan. He can use the fibre. Might loosen him up a bit.”

“Ha, bloody, ha, mate.” Doyle watched the famous Bodie pout start to form. “Something wrong, sunshine?”

“No. Only trying to sort out a puzzle. No need to worry yourself over it.” He waved a hand at them all and left the room.

Looking at each other, they all broke out in smiles. “We’ll keep him guessing for just a bit longer.”

❄❄❄❄❄

Bodie strode purposely down the corridor towards the locker room. Closing the door quietly behind him, his eyes scanned the room for likely hiding places. After looking under a few of the benches, he eyed Ray's locker. He knew the combination well enough, and had no compunction about opening it up. Rifling through the contents revealed a pair of smelly socks and Doyle's gym gear. Nothing else. He sighed, eyes skyward. Closing the locker carefully, in desperation he poked his head into the shower area, and after scanning the floor, withdrew his head, shaking it slowly at his irrational exploring. He looked again at the line of lockers. He needed to get into some of the others, but wasn't prepared to break into them, that was a step too far, even for his somewhat flexible principles. What he needed to do was get each agent down here on a pretext and once they opened their lockers, he could make sure he had a good look inside. Satisfied that he had a fool proof plan, he headed back towards the rest room.

Bodie burst in through the rest room door. "Murph! Just the man. Could I borrow some of your shaving cream, mate?"

"You know it's not the sort of cream you eat, don't you, Bodie," chortled Susan.

Bodie raised a disdainful eyebrow at her before turning back to Murphy with a hopeful expression.

Murphy raised his mug. "It's in m'locker. D'ya want it now, or can I finish m'tea first?"

"You can just give me the key if you like, mate? S'not like you keep the crown jewels in y'locker, is it?" said Bodie, helpfully.

Murphy shrugged. "Yeah, if you like." He pulled his keys from his pocket and threw them across to Bodie, who caught them deftly and almost ran out the room. "Cheers, Smurf. I'll have 'em back to you in a jiffy."

❄❄❄❄❄

Murphy waited until the echo of Bodie’s footsteps could no longer be heard. “You’ve really got him wound up, Doyle,” Murphy chuckled, “almost drove him to a bit of B&E.”

“Yeah,” Doyle agreed, but some of the fun was now missing from his voice.

Doyle absent-mindedly sipped his tea. A joke's a joke, but now was probably the time to knock it on the head. Bodie had fallen for it hook line and sinker and to carry it on for longer would be unkind. He sighed deeply. The things he did for his partner.

“Problem?” Susan asked.

“No,” Doyle shook his head, and smiled. “We’d better go and collect the goods before Sherlock figures out where they really are. Although it can wait till I've finished m'tea!”

“And where are they?”

“Betty.”

“But she said-”

Doyle tapped a finger to the side of his nose. “A favour here, a favour there...”

They made their way to the Controller’s office, but Betty wasn’t there. Bodie, however, was sitting on the corner of Betty’s desk.

Doyle walked up to him and ran his hand around Bodie’s chin, his fingers catching on dark stubble. “Missed a few spots, mate. Didn’t find what you needed in Murph’s locker?”

“Sod off, Doyle.”

Doyle started to reply when the door to Cowley’s office opened and Betty stepped out, holding an open parcel.

Bodie leapt to his feet.“There it is!” He reached for the box, dismay clear on his face as he saw the package had been opened. He peeled back the layer of Christmas paper covering the contents and stared at Betty. “You opened Doyle’s parcel. You - you ate them!”

Cowley, standing behind Betty, said, “Stand down Three-Seven. The package was addressed to CI5. You know anything that comes to the office is opened and searched for dangerous goods.”

“Me mum’s Christmas biscuits are not dangerous goods,” Doyle protested loudly.

Seemingly unaware of what was going on around him, Bodie repeated sorrowfully, “You ate them.”

Cowley removed his spectacles and viewed Bodie sternly. “May I remind you, Bodie, this is the season of goodwill." He winked at Doyle and disappeared back into his office.

Bodie stared after him and peered into the empty box. He muttered, "Well doesn't that just take the biscuit!"


End file.
